The Scarecrow and his Servant

"What would you say if I offered you the position of my personal servant?"

Jack considered. "Could I still visit Lucy at the weekends?"

"Oh, I expect so," said the scarecrow, with a blasé wave of his begloved hand. "Unless, of course, we should venture too far out of reach."

"How far should we venture?" said Jack, wondering quite what he was getting himself into. "I have only ever been as far as Shropshire."

"Shropshire? Good heavens!" said the scarecrow. "I was thinking more along the lines of Japan."

"Japan?"

"Yes. Do you know it?"

"Not- not personally," Jack stammared.

"Good," said the scarecrow. "Neither have I. But I have heard so much about it and it seems to be something of a pilgrimage that all straw-people should make at some point in their lives. By the way, could you pass me my pipe? My arms are so very stiff." He gestured to his waistcoat pocket, where a small shiny fluted end just protuded above the seam.

Weakly, Jack did pass him his pipe, but then there was an unfortunate and rather awkward altercation when the scarecraw realised that his arms were still too stiff to raise his pipe to his lips, and Jack had to help him again, standing on a hay bale to reach his cracked turnip mouth. Then of couse there was no tobacco, but, as the scare crow commented quite cheerfully in a slightly muffled voice, he did indeed look more distinguished now.

"So?" he said. "What do you say, little boy?"

"I should..." Jack took a deep breath. "I should like that very much. To go to Japan with you, I mean."

"Splendid!" cried the scarecrow (and the pipe fell out again). "Then we should head for the train station!"